For a long time, Lily did not speak.
The river continued to flow beside them, its surface reflecting the fading colors of the evening sky. The water did not slow. It did not pause to listen. It simply moved forward, indifferent to the weight that had just been placed upon the silence.
Lily stood very still.
Her earlier anger had evaporated completely, leaving behind something far heavier. Her lips parted once, as if she wanted to say something—to deny his words, to argue, to insist that he was wrong.
But nothing came out.
Victor watched her from the corner of his eye and then looked away.
He had already said too much. And yet, he knew that if he stopped now, she would never understand. Worse—she would misunderstand everything.
So he continued.
"Do you know why I always work at the hospital?" Victor asked quietly.
Lily did not answer.
Victor did not wait for one.
"When I am inside the hospital," he said, "knights cannot kill me without reason."
His voice was calm, almost detached, as if he were explaining a simple rule rather than the structure of his own survival.
"This place," he continued, gesturing faintly toward the distant outline of the hospital buildings, "is one of the few spaces where my death would raise too many questions."
Lily's fingers curled slowly at her side.
"That is why the king and the council are waiting," Victor said. "Waiting for me to step outside its protection."
He let out a short, humorless breath.
"And if I die somewhere else… who would care?"
Lily's chest tightened painfully.
"I was already removed from the Grey family," Victor went on. "The Potter family is old, but it is not powerful. They cannot protect me from the will of the crown."
He glanced at her briefly.
"And from their perspective," he said, "why should they keep spending money to monitor me? Knights, watchers, surveillance—it all costs resources."
The river murmured softly.
"If they kill me," Victor said, "the problem disappears. No risk. No expense. No future uncertainty."
His voice dropped.
"What can happen if I die?" he asked quietly. "Who would care about me anyway?"
Lily felt as if something inside her cracked.
Her vision blurred.
She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms, but she did not interrupt him. Somewhere deep inside, she understood that stopping him now would be the cruelest thing she could do.
"At first," Victor continued, "I panicked."
He looked down at the ground, at the small stones scattered along the riverbank.
"I didn't know how to survive. I was a child who had lost his parents, lost his family, lost his future—all in stages, each one slower and more deliberate than the last."
He inhaled slowly.
"Then I thought," he said. "If power frightens them, then I will not show power."
Lily's brows knitted together.
"And so I chose a different path," Victor went on. "I created potions."
He looked up at the sky.
"Potions that were far ahead of what the current masters could make. Not because I wanted fame—but because I needed them to notice."
His lips curved faintly.
"They noticed."
Lily swallowed.
"At night," Victor said, "Mery Hell came to me."
The name alone made Lily's stomach twist.
"She told me that if I couldn't produce a better formula for a burn-healing potion," Victor continued, "then I would die."
His tone did not change.
"So I did it," he said. "In a few hours, I created a new formula."
Lily felt her throat tighten painfully.
"And I thought," Victor said softly, "as long as I keep showing my value, they won't kill me."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I believed I could live quietly. Take care of my parents. Watch my brother grow."
The words hung in the air, fragile and exposed.
"But I was wrong," Victor said.
Lily looked at him sharply.
"Because then," he continued, "you came."
The statement was not accusatory.
It was factual.
"You challenged me," Victor said. "In medicine. In healing."
Lily flinched.
"You know," he went on, "I tried to act rude to you. I tried to push you away. I mistreated you deliberately."
He met her gaze.
"I avoided you."
Lily opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"But you didn't understand," Victor said quietly. "You kept coming. You kept challenging me."
His hands clenched at his sides.
"I couldn't understand why you had to do that to me," he said. "If you lost, it was only a loss for me. But if I lost—"
He stopped.
Then finished the sentence.
"I would die."
Lily's breath caught sharply.
"They would replace me," Victor said. "With you."
He turned away, staring at the river again.
"Tell me, Lily," he said, his voice suddenly raw, "did I offend you?"
She shook her head instinctively, but he did not look back.
"That is why I avoided you," Victor continued. "But time passed. And you grew stronger."
His jaw tightened.
"And I," he said, "could not gather mana."
A bitter smile flickered across his face.
"In the end, I lost to you."
Lily's heart pounded painfully.
"You proved," Victor said, "that I am not irreplaceable."
The river splashed softly against the bank.
"That wasn't enough," Victor went on. "You came to the hospital. You built a name as great as mine."
He turned to face her now.
"For you, it might have been a game," he said. "A rivalry."
His eyes darkened.
"For me, my fame was the only shield protecting my life."
Lily's knees felt weak.
"And now," Victor continued, his voice lowering, "we studied together. Worked together. For six months."
He exhaled slowly.
"And today," he said, "you went to Mery Hell on your own."
Lily's lips trembled.
"You created a potion formula in her place," Victor said. "And in their eyes…"
He paused.
"I am replaceable."
The word landed with crushing weight.
"So now you understand," Victor said quietly.
The silence stretched unbearably long.
"You should know," he continued, "Mery Hell has wanted to kill me for a very long time."
He turned fully toward Lily.
"And today," he said, "you gave her the sword."
Lily's eyes filled with tears.
Her chest ached so badly it felt difficult to breathe.
"Why," Victor asked softly, "does it have to be you?"
His voice broke for the first time.
"I thought…" He stopped, swallowing hard. "I thought we became friends."
He looked at her, not with anger—but with exhaustion.
"So tell me," Victor said quietly, "why are you doing this to me?"
The river flowed on.
And Lily, standing beside him, finally understood the terrible truth—
That in trying to save him, she had nearly signed his death warrant.